An Innocent Guard
by MrVermilion
Summary: The Dragonborn, seen from the perspective of a Skyrim guard.


**An Innocent Guard**

I love the Dragonborn. I know all the songs about him by heart. I've even sung some myself down at the inn. Just for friends. Nothing showy.

I have to be careful doing it, see. Some of the other guards don't care to hear the songs. They get jealous of him. For a while there was this running joke that we were all supposed to act like someone had stolen his sweetroll. It was supposed to be funny. At least, that was what they said. Really, it was just supposed to put him in his place. Deep down, everybody who joins the guards dreams of glory. You know it'll probably just be long hours on patrol and breaking up tussles in the inn, but you still dream about how one day the stars will align and you'll be a hero. You'll carve out your little corner of history. Then comes the Dragonborn. And he's the most glorious. The most fearless. He's everything. And he doesn't leave anything for the rest of us. It makes some people angry.

Not me, though. I love him. I'm his biggest admirer. He'd never look twice at me, I know. But that's all right. It's enough to walk the streets with him. It's enough to stand at attention as he passes. He's glanced at me a few times. Once he even smiled.

He's a real hero. There are wonderful tales you shelter deep down in your heart because you know reality will burn them away like dew under a morning sun. He's made of the same stuff as those tales, but reality can't touch him. He's perfect. He's everything I ever wanted.

That's why I'm going to kill him.

You have to understand, I'm not malicious. I'm not a villain or a dark lord or anything. It's just that I know the tales. I know how they all work. The hero rises. He conquers. And then he dies. He doesn't get old or frail or toothless. He doesn't retire and open a shop and raise whiny, disobedient children like the rest of us. A hero dies tragically. He's slain killing the last dragon. He falls trying to fly to heaven. He's betrayed by someone who loves him.

That's what I can do for him. That's what I can be. He's still strong now, still magnificent. But the legend is starting to dim a little, isn't it? It's all getting a bit strained. He's killed the worldeater. He's won the war. He's conquered the undead and the evil mages and the Dark Brotherhood. When he fought all those vampire lords, I thought maybe then he'd die in the ruins of their great castle. But he didn't. When he sailed across the sea to face the one called Miraak, I thought there at last he'd meet his final foe. But he won again. He just keeps winning, and the hour is getting late, the sun bloody on the western horizon of his glory. No tale can go on forever. That's why it has to end now. While there's still time. While he's still uncorrupted, pure and perfect.

I know how I'll do it. There are always two doors in the passage tombs he likes to explore. The Dragonborn takes the longer way - more tests and trials for the hero that way, you see. But I figure it shouldn't be too hard to find the other door, the one he'll come out once he's avoided all the traps and killed all the draugr and fought the final foe. He'll come staggering into the sunlight, bloodied but unbent, weary but undaunted, laden with treasure but buoyant with victory. He'll smile his amazing smile and pause there just a moment to let his eyes adjust.

That's when I'll pull the trigger on my crossbow. I'll put my quarrel straight through his eye and into his brain. His head will snap back and his lips will part, like he's in ecstasy and not dying at all. He'll fall from the ledge - in my dreams I see a ledge - like a blossom snipped from a branch. His blood will stain the snow. He will be magnificent. Beautiful.

Perfect.

I'll put up my bow. I'll wipe my footprints away. I'll go home and never say a word of where I've been, and no one will ever suspect how I served him, the sacrifice I made for my love. In time, I'll sell the bow and my armor and sword. I'll marry someone with a nice smile and we'll open a shop and raise children together. Two girls and a boy. We'll be happy.

I'll live a long and blameless life and when I die, I'll go to Sovngarde. Maybe I'll see him there. Maybe he'll even smile.


End file.
